


breakfast on a rainy day

by sweetbreads



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Hospital Playlist AU, Kid Fic, M/M, mentions of sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27016153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbreads/pseuds/sweetbreads
Summary: Kyungsoo and Chanyeol have breakfast together.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	breakfast on a rainy day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing after a long time, it's nothing substantial, but I hope some of you might enjoy it! This is unbeta-ed and english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes you might find.

Kyungsoo’s mother sounds tired on the phone. He usually calls her between surgeries or in the middle of a grocery run, because he will always be the youngest son and she will always worry. An endless loop of questions is always thrown at him, has he eaten, how is his neck, and has he bought any clementines lately - is flu season, he needs the vitamin C. But he gladly takes the worried words and keeps inside them his heart, is nice to be taken care of, even from a distance.

But this call is not about him.

“How is he feeling?” His mother asks, her voice thick from sleep. It’s 3 AM.

“Mom, he’s not talking.” Kyungsoo looks at poor Sejoo, sitting with fallen shoulders on top of the kitchen island, face red and teary. “I think his throat hurts.” Sejoo looks at him with his big clear eyes, like his father, and nods.

“Was he out in the cold?” His mom asks between yaws and Kyungsoo tries to comfort the poor boy with a one-armed hug. Sejoo sobs quietly into Kyungsoo’s shirt. 

“He has allergies, but we-,  **_I_ ** have tried everything.” He switches the phone to his other ear. Hugging Sejoo with his two arms now, the kid doesn’t even sob, afraid it will hurt his sore throat even more. 

“Everything?” His mother enquires again, and he can hear the faint snores of his father over the phone.

“His usual allergy medication, tea, and even painkillers but it won't stop hurting.” He sighs and pats Sejoo’s dark hair absently.

“Try these, a clove of-"

“Wait, I’ll put you on speaker.”

He puts the phone on the island, under the blinding white lights, tries to give Sejoo a reassuring smile and hand squeeze.

"Get a clove of garlic, honey, andiroba oil, and a piece of cotton."

Kyungsoo soon realizes that he doesn't know where either of these things is and begins to open and close cupboards at random.

His mind is running miles an hour, he is a doctor, but mothers always know better and in this case, he has no shame about calling his mother at odd hours of the night if it means he can stop Sejoo's pain, but where is the  _ fucking garlic _ .

Sejoo pulls Kyungsoo's sleeve with his small hand, trying to grab his attention, and then points to the small narrow cupboard atop of the stove.

"Are you still there?" His mom asks over the phone, voice still thick and tainted with slumber.

"Getting the stuff, hold on." He scans the small spice cupboard and easily finds the garlic. 

He knows there is honey on the small coffee station near the living room and cotton in the bathroom, but he has no idea what andiroba oil is.

"Sejoo, does your dad have andiroba oil?" Kyungsoo asks, coming from the bathroom, putting the Mason jar filled with cotton on top of the granite.

Sejoo raises his arms in Kyungsoo's direction. He is usually a well-behaved boy, but he is sick and has been crying for the better part of the night - an indulgence is not gonna hurt.

The boy points down the main hallway in the direction of Chanyeol's bedroom.

"Are you sure, buddy?" Kyungsoo asks. He is in his house at the wee hours of the morning already, isn't coming inside his bedroom a little too much? They have been friends for so long but where do they draw the line.

Sejoo nods. So Kyungsoo walks in. The room has a characteristic Chanyeol smell - lemon hand sanitizer, some expensive perfume, and Gatorade -, the sheets are made because he had been trying to deal with Sejoo's sickness way before Kyungsoo got here.

Sejoo points at the wardrobe, a heavy tall thing made with dark wood. Kyungsoo opens the door and Sejoo grabs a bottle inside.

When leaving the room, Kyungsoo makes sure to close the door quietly.

Back in the kitchen he puts Sejoo back on the island and examines the bottle more closely.

"Mom, is that spelled A N D I R O B A?" He asks, waiting for a while before asking again. "Mom, are you there?"

He hears a surprised gasp and then a noise on the other side. 

"Yeah, I am here." She yaws this time "Rub it all in the cotton then down his throat, can you do it?"

Kyungsoo opens people's brains for a living, of course, he can, but will Sejoo let him.

Sejoo lets out a whine and sensing the tension even through the phone, his mother intervenes.

"Sejoo-ah," She says, and hearing his mother's overly maternal tone, Kyungsoo smiles. "Let Dr. Kyungsoo take care of you, he is going to make you better, I know that cause I taught him how to."

Sejoo smiles shyly at that and Kyungsoo prepares the concoction with clinical precision, rubbing the ingredients in the cotton.

He looks at Sejoo again, the poor boy fidgets with his mouth firmly closed, turning away when he sees Kyungsoo’s raised hand.

“Come on, buddy, it’s not going to hurt, I promise.” It will hurt a little, he remembers the feeling from his childhood.

He and his mom have to coax Sejoo into this, the kid barely opens his mouth and when he does, Kyungsoo can definitely see why, his throat is angry red all over, amygdales shining brightly under the kitchen lights.

He tries his best to be gentle with the cotton, listening to any painful sound Sejoo might make, but the boy stays quiet, mouth hanging open as Kyungsoo quietly applies the solution.

“Better now?” Kyungsoo asks. Sejoo nods again and coughs a couple of times. “Sorry, the taste is really bad.”

“But it does the job.” His mom complains on the phone.

“Of course it does. Thanks, mom." Kyungsoo examines Sejoo's face one more time. "Sejoo is already looking much better!" He said more motivation than truth.

"Thank you, Mrs. Do!" Sejoo says too, Chanyeol is very keen on teaching him the little  _ magic words _ , and it sounds so more charming with Sejoo's lisp from his missing teeth.

"No problem, Sejoo-ah, call anytime you need!" Kyungsoo recognizes the happy tilt of his mother's voice as the one that was reserved to when she saw Sejoo doing - well, anything.

"Goodnight, mom. Go to bed." And then turns the phone off.

He puts the phone onto his back pocket and sees Sejoo's eyes drop a little. The poor boy had been crying for the better part of the night and quietly sniffing for the other, he had also taken his allergy medicines. Sejoo raises his arms to Kyungsoo who quietly picks him up, a night full of indulgences.

"Let's brush our teeth and go to bed, okay."

"Yes, that tasted awful." He sticks out his tongue.

"Oh, your throat feels better already?"

"Better, but awful" Sejoo lays his head on Kyungsoo's shoulder, the ultimate sign of defeat.

**◇**

Kyungsoo could only feel the weight being lifted from his shoulders when Sejoo is back in bed - brushed teeth and face ridden of tear stains. The boy is asleep in Kyungsoo's arms even before his head reaches the pillow.

Kyungsoo goes back to the kitchen to put out the small mess. The cotton jar goes back in the kitchen cabinet, the honey near the coffee machine, and the garlic on the narrow spice cabinet.

The andiroba oil, though. That goes to Chanyeol's bedroom.

He has been to his friend's house a couple of times, but his ex-wife was there, and then she wasn't there but she was still his wife. Only recently she stopped being both a wife and  _ there _ .

He opens the door quietly, trying and failing to scan the place. The bed still made, the smell of lemon lingering in the air. He has a few photos on the wall. Sejoo, his sister, his parents, and their small group of friends. A guitar on the side of the bed, a stack of CDs. He keeps almost nothing here, while Sejoo's room is packed with toys, doodles from school, and colors, Chanyeol's is monochromatic hell. 

Because Chanyeol is barely there, Kyungsoo knows this, and Chanyeol seems to be the color that it's' lacking.

He opens the sliding door of the massive wardrobe and puts the bottle in.

When he's leaving the room, quietly closing the door behind him the front door opens, and Chanyeol comes in, carrying paper bags. And Kyungsoo finally looks out the window and sees the first rays of sunlight. Fitting.

"How? It was just 3 AM minutes ago." Kyungsoo asks.

"Wait, did you see that on the microwave clock?" Chanyeol asks, kicking his shoes by the door and hanging his coat.

Kyungsoo nods. 

"It's at least two hours late. Let's go, I brought breakfast."

He gestures to the paper bags in his hands and walks to the kitchen. Unpacking the food, the first sun rays of the day reflect on his gold watch. Chanyeol’s hands are pretty.

“How did you get him to sleep?” Chanyeol asks, setting the cutlery on the table.

“I called my mom, and she told me an old recipe from when I was a kid. Nasty stuff.” Kyungsoo gives him a small smile. “Also, why do you have andiroba oil, of all things?”

“Ah, that.” Chanyeol scratches the back of his neck and then pulls the chair to sit down. “My mom gave me that, it’s really good for arthritis, some days my hands are killing me.”

“How was the surgery, by the way?” Kyungsoo asks, plating his food and then sitting in front of Chanyeol.

“It went well!"

But Chanyeol has a tired voice, aching hands and you can see on his face, the light twitching on his eyes. Doctors are supposed to be used to crazy schedules, but Chanyeol was on call most of the nights with three residents on his back and a small son to take care of.

“Chanyeol, have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Kyungsoo, I’m fine”

“Is not what I asked.”

“I have been.”

“Have you been playing lately?” He asks, remembering the very loved guitar in Chanyeol’s room. “Going out? Dating?” The last question left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol stars and then puts another forkful of food on his mouth, chewing slowly. “Doing this, just the two of us.” He points to the two of them, as a unit. “Is enough self-care to me.” 

Kyungsoo can feel blood rushing to his cheeks and turns his eyes away from Chanyeol's piercing gaze. On the window, there's rain. 


End file.
